


Strange Bedfellows

by elle_dritch



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_dritch/pseuds/elle_dritch
Summary: Imported from 2011 and Livejournal: oh, the bitterness of mortality, the slow decay of time, etc.Beta: the rather marvellous derryderrydown who reassured me that my knowledge of computers was not entirely awful.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Strange Bedfellows

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from 2011 and Livejournal: oh, the bitterness of mortality, the slow decay of time, etc. 
> 
> Beta: the rather marvellous derryderrydown who reassured me that my knowledge of computers was not entirely awful.

Tony sighs appreciatively as the woman he's been flirting with walks away, ostensibly to the restroom to powder her nose, and says to the complete stranger next to him at the bar, 'That is a beautiful ass, isn't it?' He toasts the beautiful ass, and its eventual return, with his scotch. 'My lawyer's told me that I should try to add something complimentary about a woman's personality to avoid getting hit with another sexual harassment suit, or alternatively that I should just not talk. Ever. Or leave the house. But then I reminded him of that time with the webcam. My point is that while I'm sure she's a stellar human being, it's pretty difficult to lick chocolate sauce off someone's personality. Their beautiful ass, on the other hand-'

'It's alright,' says the stranger equably. 'It's not the one I've been watching all night though.'

Tony turns to him, brow creasing, and finds that the stranger is looking straight at him.  
  
'Oh,' says Tony, and tries to keep himself from smirking, but it's so hard when his face just wants to arrange itself like that naturally. Ah, fuck it; he unleashes the full power of his awesome on the guy who merely raises his own glass to him. 'It's the suit, right? Guys love the suit.'

'It's very nice,' says the guy. 'Savile Row?'

'No, I mean-' Tony finds himself at a loss. That hasn't happened since - he does some rapid calculations - fifth grade. At _least_. 'You do know who I am, don't you?'

And okay, Discerning Guy has his own smirk going on, but it has subtlety to it. Tony's gotta learn how to do subtle one of these days; it looks pretty good on Discerning Guy.

'That is the oldest line around,' says the guy. 'And I'd know.'  
  
'It did sound better in my head,' admits Tony, 'but my brain to mouth filter's always been a little-,' he waves the hand that's not holding his scotch, 'not there. Besides, being an asshole comes naturally; I don't need lines to help me out.'  
  
'Or to pick up random strangers, it seems,' says the guy, and gives him a brief, flickering smile.

'That, too,' agrees Tony. 'You really don't know who I am?' he asks, fascinated. Because fuck modesty right in the ear, even before he announced he was Iron Man, he was pretty much a big deal. Has Pretty, Discerning Guy being living in a remote monastery somewhere? Because that has possibilities. On the other hand, picking up a billionaire at the bar in a five thousand dollar a plate charity dinner doesn't exactly scream impoverished virgin. Oh well, thinks Tony, they can always roleplay it.

'I've been out of town,' says the guy. 'But I'm back in the game now. So to speak.'  
  
'I'm quite a gameplayer myself,' says Tony. 'Would you like to come back to mine? I can show you my canasta set. So to speak.'

The guy sets his glass down on the bar with a decisive click. 'Yes, I think I would.'

Tony shepherds the guy across the crowded ballroom to the exit with a shit-eating grin on his face. He carefully ignores Rhodey looking at him disapprovingly. He's had plenty of practice; Rhodey's been looking at him disapprovingly since the day they met.

'In the interests of full disclosure,' says Tony as he slides his hand proprietarily onto Discerning Guy's ass, 'you realise that when I said I'd show you my canasta set, I really meant my dick, right?'

'Yes,' says the guy, drily. 'Yes, you were extraordinarily subtle but I managed to pick that up.'

*************************

Tony knows something is wrong when he wakes up alone. Normally when he's done showing someone the Stark canasta set, they want to stick around and play with it some more, but the crumpled sheets on the other side of the bed are cold and deserted. In addition, Jarvis has just woken him up with a suddenly cut-off WHAAARGARBL that is less measured than his usual British snootiness. That's probably not good.

His A.I also fails to respond to Tony's increasingly strident demands and questions as he slaloms, with a fine disregard for his continuing nudity, down into the basement. When he gets there, he can't really blame him; JARVIS has more immediate problems.  
  
'You froze my fucking server,' accuses Tony even as he snatches up one of the repulsor gauntlets he'd been fiddling about with from the workbench. 'With actual ice. That is very uncool. Or possibly really cool. Oh, ow; puns on top of a hangover, not good. Also,' he says, blinking, 'you're blue. Very, very- _blue_. Were you blue last night? Because I don't remember being drunk enough to fuck a Smurf.'

Discerning Guy- no, hang on, they'd introduced themselves after they broke the bed. It's L-, L-something, Tony distinctly remembers moaning it in the throes of passion. _Come on, give it to me harder, L____?_ he prompts his brain hopefully. Luke! Tony is tempted to fistpump in recognition of the fact that this is the first time in _years_ he's known someone's name the morning after - he is totally growing as a person! - but last time he gestured in triumph whilst holding a gauntlet he'd nearly shot Hawkeye in the ass.  
  
Luke turns slowly and that is some hellacious red-eye he's got going on. Tony will be the first to admit that sometimes he makes bad choices - or no, Pepper generally points out his bad choices and then he is properly contrite and promises to do something ridiculous for charity so that she stops guilt-tripping him and makes his life run properly - but the point is that Tony's choices are yes, yes, admittedly usually bad but very rarely lead to a blue dude with chronic conjunctivitis breaking into his private workshop. This is an entirely new kind of fuck-up. And they call him jaded! Pfft.  
  
'Who the hell are you?' says Tony, levelling the gauntlet at his erstwhile bed-partner while he circles the workbench to get a better line of sight on him. 'And how did you get down here? No one can get down here without my authorisation.'

'Ah,' says Luke, and give him credit, this guy has serious balls. Metaphorically speaking. Although Tony's seen the literal set and they're not too shabby eith- No, okay, focus. 'I don't suppose you would believe me if I said that it was magic, Tony Stark?'

Tony makes a rude noise.

'No, I didn't think so,' says Luke with a sly smile, and twists his hands in a practiced gesture. The blue seeps away until he's the pale, lean man that Tony met the previous night, dressed now in some sort of leather armour and cape ensemble rather than a tux. Tony's not gonna lie; it's a good look. 'And yet-'

'That is,' Tony allows, 'a pretty neat trick, but Siegfried and Roy can make a tiger disappear.'  
  
There's a movement that Tony can't even see, and a waft of ozone as the air burns with the speed of Luke's passing. From behind him, Luke's voice says, soft as a kiss, ' _I_ can make things disappear too,' and his gloved hand closes round Tony's neck like a vice. 'Mouthy little blacksmiths would be the very least of them.'

'Okay,' Tony wheezes. 'I'm a little bit impressed. Who the fuck are you?'  
  
Luke shakes him lightly like a terrier with a rat. 'For someone whose spine could be broken any moment, your tongue is a little too busy. You should be more respectful, Stark. Gods like respect. And the occasional sacrifice.'

'Hey,' objects Tony past the crushing pressure. 'I sacrificed. I sacrificed all night long. Just so we're clear, which god are you again? I want to get your name right when I write it on a bathroom door later.'  
  
Ridiculously, impossibly, Luke laughs close to Tony's ear, and if Tony shivers, it's because Mr Freeze here is chilly, not at all because he knows for the first time in years that he's out of his depth.  
  
Luke's voice lowers even further and slithers into Tony's ear like a snake. It's horrifyingly intimate, far more intimate than anything they'd done last night. 'Tell the world, then,' he breathes, 'that you had the honour of serving Loki. Over and over again. And when you meet my halfwit brother down here in this primitive realm, as you no doubt will, I want you to tell him everything we did. In detail. Nothing,' he says, and snaps at Tony's earlobe with his sharp teeth, 'no tiny detail is too perverse, too sordid, to be left out. You'll do that for me, won't you?' It's clear that it's not a question. It's also clear to Tony that Loki has a serious jones for his brother, whoever the poor bastard is, and is, in addition, as mad as a box of frogs. Tony really knows how to pick 'em.

Loki's hand loosens fractionally around Tony's neck, just enough that Tony can nod in spurious agreement and draw in an aching lungful of air. He coughs and flails a little, his knee nudging the control panel on the side of the workbench.  
  
'What do you want, your, uh, eminence?' Tony tries, still struggling for breath, eyes focused on their reflections, dimly described on a touch screen now blinking into life . Low down on the monitor, a countdown starts to degrade.

'Are you trying to be humble, Stark?' says Loki, and laughs. 'Truly, I have accomplished a miracle.'

Tony keeps quiet. It's really fucking difficult. He doesn't know how Pepper manages; he has all these things to say that are so apropos for this moment, and they're funny and clever and seriously, _seriously_ , fuck this god thing so hard. He's totally over deities. The Norse pantheon can suck it; he is done with them. Unless they're really fucking pretty and at least fifty percent, no, okay, _forty_ percent less of a sociopathic nutjob than this one. He can feel a thousand different one-liners backing up. He just needs a little more time-

'What I want, puny mortal,' says Loki and then pauses to make a small sound of pleasure. 'I've always wanted to say that,' he confides in Tony's ear, 'What I want are the schematics for SHIELD's vault security systems in which I believe you had a hand.'  
  
'They're on my laptop. I could, I could give you the password for it,' offers Tony weakly. 'You don't need to hurt me.'  
  
'Well, of course I don't need to,' agrees Loki, 'but where's the fun in that?'  
  
'I could help you,' Tony says. 'Even gods needs financial backing, right? There's a recession on out there, and supervillainy's an expensive hobby.'  
  
'You're not bad at attempted seduction,' Loki says, 'for a human. And you _are_ remarkably flexible. But I would really,' he emphasises his point by shaking Tony by the throat again until he flops about like a ragdoll, 'like those plans now. Give me the password, or I will break your neck and walk you into SHIELD headquarters like a _draugr_.'  
  
Loki shakes him one last time before dropping him on the floor. Drawing his knees under him, Tony stares balefully at his- Is it too soon to call Loki his nemesis? He'll have to ask Professor X about the etiquette of exes and nemeses. Perhaps there's a Facebook status for it: ♥ _Tony Stark went from being "single" to "locked in a bitter struggle to the death with his mortal enemy"._ Loki moves towards the workbench where Tony's laptop is hibernating. Tony's struggle for breath is almost loud enough to drown out the muffled, percussive thump of ice dropping rapidly from the server behind him.

'Yes,' rasps Tony. 'Yes, okay. The password is,' he pauses and coughs hoarsely before deliberately enunciating, 'Stark five nine two four zero iota slash six nine zero.'  
  
'And that opens this box of tricks, which opens the vault, which opens the way for my vengeance' says Loki, looking at the laptop avariciously. 'Finally, my time is at hand. My powers shall be restored and I shall take back what is rightfully mi-"  
  
'Uh, whatever,' says Tony, pulling himself to his feet, 'Actually, it opens up the weapons system on JARVIS. I managed to start him defrosting about two minutes ago while you were mid-monologue, which, seriously? Are you fucking _new_? Read the Evil Overlord List next time. JARVIS: security breach, fire at will.'  
  
'With pleasure, sir,' says JARVIS, and Turing be damned, the real test of an AI's capacity to imitate human behaviour is its ability to sound righteously vengeful whilst opening up its entire arsenal on the entity that's just tried to freeze it solid.  
  
'Cease fire,' Tony finally shouts when Loki has disapparated or teleported or whatever out of the basement with a strangled cry of rage and a glare that promises unholy vengeance when Loki doesn't have to deal with these pesky lasers and anti-tank missiles. Seriously, he thinks disrespectfully, for a god, Loki's kind of a pussy. He'd say it out loud, except- his throat still kinds of hurts. And so does his ass, he realises, darkly; it's a good thing he's never been one for dignity because otherwise this would be all kinds of embarrassing. Speaking of which-

'JARVIS,' he says, 'Pepper can never know of this.'

'Your one night stand broke into a secure lab with magic and froze me,' JARVIS states. 'Protocol demands that Ms Potts be routinely informed of all security incidents involving your conquests. So that we can add them to the database,' he adds, pointedly.  
  
'You're keeping a database of the people I sleep with?'  
  
'Only the homicidal maniacs. Ms Potts has an Excel spreadsheet: over three workbooks.'

'Look, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement,' says Tony. 'Wait, only three? I would have sworn there would be more.'

'I suspect that she will have to invent a new program to cover the possible dangers of sleeping with a trickster god,' JARVIS says. 'I'd like an upgrade of the interfaces in the Geneva house.'

'Yes, okay.'

'And back-ups of my back-ups.'

'Absolutely.'

'And the Angry Birds app.'

'What.'  
  
'I get bored when you're not fighting international crime or Norse gods,' says JARVIS, managing to sound both patrician and sulky. 'Tetris is also acceptable.'

'Fine,' sighs Tony.

'And a-'

Flinging his hand in the air, Tony cuts him short. 'JARVIS, I will get you a _pony_ , okay? I will get you two ponies even, lots of ponies made of cake or processors or whatever your terrible, flinty, non-existent heart desires, just- secure the perimeters and get me Coulson on the phone.' He limps towards the door. 'Jesus, I need some coffee. And possibly an exorcism of my ass.'

'Probably wise, sir. Although I hope you know that I would support you fully should it turn out that you have become Loki's latest baby mama.'

'I am totally upgrading him to nemesis status,' says Tony murderously. 'Worst morning after _ever_.'


End file.
